Fall to Pieces
by Adela Hardy
Summary: COMPLETE. Hermione is becoming a teenage mess... she drinks and does drugs. She's also with Harry. Published in 2004.
1. Chapter 1: A Wish For Death

Author's Note:

This is my 3rd fan fiction on the website. Although it does share the name of a song by Avril Lavigne, it is not a songfic. I was listening to that song when I was trying to think of ideas for my next fanfiction. I liked how it sounded, so I used the name for this story.

--------

Fall to Pieces

Hermione was still, sitting quietly in her seat in History of Magic class. Harry sat to her right, with his hand in hers. Hermione's expression was solemn and tired. Maybe that was due to the cigarettes. Maybe it was because of her newly found bulimia. It may have even been because of the stress caused by the N.E.W.Ts. But what ever it was, Harry was blind to it. He never would have guessed that Hermione vomitted everything she ate. He didn't know that she spent every night and early morning outside by the lake, smoking. He held her hand, unaware of what was really going on inside her head. With her right hand taken, she picked up her quill with her left hand and sketched, with midnight black ink, little people, with dark eyes, and shadows dancing across their faces.

"Hermione!" Harry said, nudging her a little bit.

Hermione looked up to see her classmates filing out of the big, dusty room. Professor Binns was floating around near the chalkboard, waiting for Hermione and Harry to exit so he could prepare for the next class. She grabbed her parchment, covered with gothic creatures, her quill, and her textbooks, and stood up. Harry grabbed her arm, and they made a dash for Charms.

Tears flowed down her flawless cheeks as she looked in her bag. It was full of things that ruined her life. A baggie of cocaine lay carefully on top of a needle, and a couple packs of cigarettes were jammed together next to a pair of scissors. There were birth control pills and chocolate laxatives. Hermione was constantly filled with anger anymore. She was sorry she had let her life get so out of hand. Sorry she had let herself get screwed over by so many people. Sorry she had let her emotions take over. She wanted to be the strong, intelligent Hermione she once was, but knew she was to far gone for that. She wanted death, sweet death, so she would never have to feel hate, exhaustion, or pain again.

"Oh my God." she sobbed.

She sat up for a moment and felt that sickening feeling that she often felt these days. She was going to vomit up what very little she had eaten for dinner. She stood up and quickly, yet smoothly walked down to the Girl's Bathroom. No one was there, and she was glad. No one could know what she did to herself. No one. She ran to a stall, kneeled over, and threw up. Hurling between sobs, she sat there until her throat hurt and there was nothing left to throw up. She stood up, headed towards the door and just as she was about to exit, Moaning Myrtle's head began floating in the sink.

"You know," she said "Someone's going to find out about you eventually."

"Whatever." Hermione replied.

She left the bathroom, and headed for the staircase. Then she realized something.

"Oh shit!" She whispered.

In a panic, she took off running towards her house common room. She would have kicked open the portrait, if it hadn't let her in. Maybe she didn't want to be let in. But she said the password and headed for the Girls Dorms. She found exactly what she feared she would. Ginny was sitting on her bed, holding the bag. When Hermione entered the room, she stood up.

"Hermione Granger, you have a problem!" She said.

"What are you talking about? Or do you even know?" Hermione snapped.

Ginny's face softened.

"Why don't you tell someone? Why are you doing this?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"I would."

"You wouldn't!" Hermione cried.

Her knees buckled, and she kneeled on the floor, crying.

"I have to be perfect for Harry! He won't love me if I have big wrists, or if I'm not happy and beautiful… No one will!" She whimpered.

"Oh, bloody hell, Hermione, who gave you that idea? Harry will love you no matter what."

"No… no. No, no… no."


	2. Chapter 2: Thoughts and Considerations

Author's Note:

Hey guys, thanks for reviewing! Oh, and in the last chapter, there were supposed to be asterisks after the dash for Charms, but they didn't show up. Also, Fall to Pieces is not only the name of a song by Avril Lavigne, but also by the Velvet Revolvers! (Thanks Faint Hate!) This chapter is really short, but it's for a reason!!

Hermione wasn't sure what to do now. Ginny knew about her problem, and was bound to tell Ron or Harry eventually. She didn't feel well anyway, so she decided to stay in bed, sick. Lying in the bed, she began to think. _"Do I really want to keep doing this?" "I don't want to keep fighting."_ She thought about death. She thought about forms of relief. She thought about Harry. What would he think about her if he heard? Had Ginny told him? She couldn't let him hear.


	3. Chapter 3: Numbing Effort

Author's Note: Thanks, Faint Hate, for reading! Sorry I haven't updated in SO long!! I'll try to be a bit more religious about it. Anyway, R&R, and enjoy!

The breeze was calming, but the cold was numbing. The murky depths of the Lake scared her, but what did she care? It would all be over with soon. She was ready to jump. Calm, and cold, she thought she would die. As she entered the icy cold lake water, she heard a voice.

"Hermione, what are you doing? Good mother of Merlin, this is not the swimming season! Get out." She heard Harry… Harry?... yell.

Hermione felt she had no choice but to get out. But she couldn't let him hear about her. Never the less, she got out, and Harry put his arms around her. They walked, through the calming breeze, to the school, and up to the dorms.

"So what was that all about, anyway?" Harry asked.

He grabbed her hands, but Hermione pulled away.

"It was nothing." She mumbled.

"Are you ready?" He asked, suddenly.

"Ready for what?" She replied.

"You know." He said.

She did know, and at this point in her life, she was ready for anything that might raze her problems. She took of her shirt, and rolled over on top of Harry.

"Let's do it!"


	4. Chapter 4: Unsatisfied With Imperfection

Author's Note: Okay, since I was so inactive, you can have 2 chapters in one day! Also, once again, this chapter is short but important.

Satisfaction. Is there satisfaction in anything? Was she satisfied with her life? Of course not. Was she satisfied with her methods of relieving her problems? Perhaps some of them. Perfection. Perfect is a deep word. It's complicated, and yet, so simple. Hermione longed to be perfect. She thought she had to be perfect. She was going to be perfect.

"How does tonight sound?"

Hermione looked up, and saw Harry.

"What?" She asked, quietly.

"For our "study date", remember? What I was just talking about.." Harry replied

"Oh, sure." Hermione said.

---------------

"Merlin's beard, Harry! That's enough!" Hermione said.

The supposed study date was obviously not a study date.


	5. Chapter 5: Falling Apart

Author's Note: Is that what confused you Jessie? The "doing it" part? They did do it 2 times, and probably a lot more, because she finds it a relief from her problems. I know it may have sounded a bit stupid to have them do it twice within 2 chapters, but both times it was important. Anyway, brace yourself, people! What you are about to read is very dramatic...

"HERMIONE ANN GRANGER! I CAN NOT BELIEVE YOU HAVE LET THIS HAPPEN TO YOURSELF! WHY DIDN'T YOU USE PROTECTION? YOU AREN'T OLD ENOUGH FOR THIS ANYWAY! YOU'RE ONLY 17. I AM DISGRACED!".

Hermione sat, in shock. Her mother had sent her a howler, and it had just told everyone in the Great Hall that Hermione was pregnant. Harry sat, eyes wide, staring at the blood red remains of the envelope.

"Let's just go, Hermione." Harry said quietly.

They stood up, Harry took Hermione's hand, and they dashed off to the common room.

"Why would she do that to me?" Hermione said, crying. "I can't take this. I don't want to be a mother yet. I don't want problems. I want to be strong. I can't be that anymore! Why me?"

"It's going to be okay, Hermione. Don't be too hard on yourself. I'll stand by you, I promise." Harry said.

"Harry, I can't do this." Hermione replied, standing up.

"You can." Harry said.

"I CAN'T!" Hermione screamed. "You wait here!"

Hermione ran to her trunk, pulled out the bag, and threw it at him.

"Look at it! Look at what I've put myself through! What if I can't stop? What if I hurt it? Harry! I can't handle it!" Hermione sobbed.

Harry looked at the bag, shuddering at the look of the needle, and the drugs.

"Oh my God. Hermione! Why the hell didn't you tell me about this? Why are you putting yourself through this?" Harry shouted.

"Because, Harry! I have to be perfect. For you, for everyone. I am 'perfect' little Hermione! I have to get good grades, have a perfect record, and be perfect for my boyfriend! Why else would anyone date me? I have to be perfect!!" Hermione whispered.

"Hermione, you need help." Harry said.

"No! I need to know that you love me, not because I'm perfect!" Hermione shouted.

"Hermione, why the hell would I love you just because you were perfect? I love you because you are YOU." Harry screamed back.

"Well me isn't good enough anymore." Hermione said.


	6. Chapter 6: A Cloudy Future

Author's Note: Thanks for all your suggestions, Jessibelle! And Faint Hate! And lotr-and-potc-rule, reading over my fic yesterday, you're right! I'll pop him in soon. Oh, and apparently, I had Hermione's middle name wrong, it's Jane! Sorry about that, guys!

Perfection. The word dangled on a thread in her mind, right in the middle, in the center of everything. But any more, nothing seemed perfect. Her grades were lowering; the drugs had affected her physical appearance, as had the bulimia. Harry might be afraid of her, or disgusted by her, and her parents were upset with her. Thoughts drifted back to the once close-to-perfect times, when she was the smart, ravishing, clear Hermione. She wondered if that could ever come back. She doubted it. She wondered if all would be forgiven; forgotten. Her thoughts came back to the present, her reality. Her reality was that she was a pregnant, bulimic, teenage junky, who cuts herself, to top it off. How much longer could she live with the truth? Hermione sat up, looking out the window. The rain was falling heavily now, of course.

"Was a cloud crying? What reason did a cloud have to cry? What has it been through?" Hermione thought.

It thundered, when she thought that. Clouds. Anymore, everything was cloudy. Her future; her present. Her thoughts; her dreams. These days, even her once vibrant brown eyes looked cloudy. Cloudy and dull.

"What if I tried again?" She wondered. "I have no future, and my present is dead. What reason do I have to keep fighting, to keep trying, when I might as well give up and let go?"

From her window, she had a perfect view of the lake. The rain sprinkled over it, and the little ripples of life appeared.

"Hermione, can we talk?"

Hermione turned towards the door to see Harry standing there.

"I suppose so." Hermione said.

Harry sat down on the bed, next to her, and put his arm around her.

"I took that bag of yours, and I got rid of everything. You'll be okay now!" Harry said.

"What?" Hermione asked. "You just took my stuff, and threw it away?"

"Yes." Harry said, wondering why it was a problem.

"God, Harry!" She shouted.

"What is your problem?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked down. "Nothing, forget I said anything."

There was a cough, and Harry and Hermione looked over. There stood Ron, in a Weasley sweater and some khaki pants.

"Ron!" Harry said.

"Hiya, guys! I was visiting my brother in Romania for a bit longer, he's moving in a week or two. How's it been going?" Ron said with a smile.

Hermione smirked. "Horrible, actually. I'm pregnant, and I've been doing drugs for a few months. I tried to kill myself, and now I am suffering endlessly from bulimia, and insomnia problems sometimes. How was your vacation?"

Ron's smile dropped all together.

"Real funny, Hermione. Seriously now, what I have I missed?" Ron asked.

"She was actually telling the truth, Ron." Harry said.

"Merlin's beard! Are you serious? And you just let her do this, Harry?" Ron shouted.

"No, I…" Harry tried to answer.

"You know what, I can not believe you." Ron said, before leaving the room.

"Damn it!" Harry said, kicking the wall.

"Oh calm down, Harry." Hermione said.

"No, shut up Hermione!" Harry screamed.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked.

"Just, I'll see you later, okay." Harry replied.

He walked out of the room, leaving Hermione all alone, once again.


	7. Chapter 7: Some Fresh Air

Author's Note: Ok, everyone, I'll try to do longer chapters, I swear! But don't kill me this time!! This one is somewhat short… I will try to make 7 longer! Oh and hello, new readers!!

Anymore, she hated to be alone. Because when she was alone, she thought. She thought about her life, which was too far gone to fix. And anymore, she didn't want to think about life. She didn't even want to be alive. What kept her holding on? Was it the baby? He, she, it, was unborn, so why should she even care? Millions of babies are born everyday.

"They won't miss mine." She thought. "It will probably grow up to be a druggy, just like me."

The world could use a few less druggies.

But even if the baby wasn't born, it was still a living thing. It doesn't think yet, it doesn't see yet, but all the same. Would it be fair to kill the child along with herself? And all the same, would it be fair to hold on, when she might as well let go? Would Harry miss her? Would anyone care anymore? Hermione, the name almost everyone at school used to know, had died out. Hermione was just that girl, sitting alone, doodling on her parchment. Did they wonder what she doodled? Did they care? Did they wonder _why_ she sat alone? Or was it insignificant to them?

"Does anyone give a damn about me?" She said aloud.

"Of course they do, Hermione. I do." said Ron… Ron?

"Ron!" Hermione shouted.

"Harry obviously doesn't, he let you get the way you are anyway." Ron said.

"It wasn't his fault! Where is Harry?" Hermione replied.

"I don't know, or care." Ron said, leaning in.

"Get away, Ron! I'm going to find Harry!" Hermione said.

"Do what you will." Ron called back. "You won't want to talk to him."

-----

Hermione ran down the 7th floor corridor, and to the Grand Staircase. Down the flights of steps she ran, hearing a few 'Hiya Hermione!" s along the way. Harry had once told her that 'if she ever couldn't find him, to go look by the tree, to the left of Hagrid's Hut'.

The fresh air was intoxicating, seeing as the last time she had been outside, she was on the verge of death. Hermione breathed it in, like it was the last time she would ever breathe it.

Ahead was a dark figure, sitting alone, under a massive tree.

"Harry!" Hermione called out. "Harry, the strangest thing just happened. Ron just came into the common room, telling me how much he cared about me, and he said I wouldn't find you… Harry?"

"You think I don't know, 'Mione? Of course I know." Harry hissed.

"Well I was I to know?" Hermione asked.

"You weren't. But stay away from Ron, okay?" Harry said.

"Whatever, Harry…" Hermione replied.

The two sat in silence for several minutes more, before entering the school building. Entering the smell of a school, not the smell of fresh air. Seeing the hundreds of people, not just Harry. Seeing things the way that they always were, and the way Hermione wished they weren't.


	8. Chapter 8: When Words Start to Slur

Author's Note: Hiya, guys! Thanks for reading, I will TRY to make this one longer.

The liquid poured heavily down her throat, and she let it, without hesitation, or second thoughts. Without concern of whether it would etiolate her more, or hurt her baby. She continued to guzzle the sparkling alcohol. When this bottle was empty, Hermione galumphed down the stairs, to the common room. Harry sat on the couch, staring blankly into the fire.

"Oh, hi Harry! How's it going?" Hermione said, with slurred words.

She just tripped, when Harry stood up and grabbed her hand.

"Hermione! Have you been drinking?" He yelled.

Her head tilted, and she grinned.

"I can not believe you would DRINK while you were pregnant? Do you even care about the baby?" Harry screeched.

"Of course, Harry, now excuse me… I have to vomit, you wait here!" Hermione said, and she dashed to the Staircase.

"You can't even walk straight, I'll come." Harry said.

On they walked, until they reached the Girl's Bathroom. It was a room that Hermione must have memorized by now. Its every feature; all the characteristics of it. The tile she looked down at every day, the white of the toilets that she stared into every day. The noise of her own vomiting that she heard every day. And the indescribable sensation she felt every time she gagged.

"I'll hold your hair up." Harry said.

And again, she saw a white toilet, with a unique tile pattern under it. And again, she heard the repulsive sound. And again, she felt the unspeakable feeling of gagging.

Harry continued to hold up her thick hair, unwashed, and a duller colour. And Hermione continued to heave into the toilet.

Would it always be like this?

Author's Ending Note: Okay, I lied. But I had to cut it off here!!!

tintinnabulations


	9. Chapter 9: An Awful Attempt at Seduction

Author's Note: Hey Jessibelle, have I perfected my fic yet? Perfection… mwahahaha! No, guys, I'm not insane. I swear this chapter will be longer! Oh, and by the way, the word tintinnabulation at the end of my last chapter was actually an accident! I came across the word and liked it, so I wanted to use it in this chapter. I couldn't spell it right, so I copy/pasted it in case I could use it, but it never fit in. I forgot to take it out! LOL! But anyway, on with the story…

To attempt to avoid a best friend can be a difficult task. To attempt to avoid a best friend when you need another shoulder to cry on can be hard too. And when that person's shoulder seemed the most eligible, the most inviting, and the most comforting, things really could get complex.

Hermione left the dorms and walked down the stairs. The same stairs that she had just recently stumbled down, drunk. The stairs that made her feel a surge of guilt every time she walked them. Those stairs would haunt her forever. She walked over to her favourite chair, right by the cheerful, dancing fire. What right did that fire have to be so optimistic and happy, when just near it sat someone very upset, angry, and negative? The chair she sat in had its imperfections. There was a tear in the left armrest, and some of its cushioning was beginning to flatten. But the chair pleased Hermione. It was welcoming to her after a hard day, where she would come back to the common room with a small puke stain on her shirt, and God knows what running through her body. It was soft, when everything else seemed hard, and rough.

It was then that she heard the sound of the painting swinging up. Did she bother looking up? Did she both interrupting her chain of thoughts?

"'Lo, Hermione!"

It was Ron who had entered the room. Ron, whose shoulder she needed to lean on. Ron, who she was supposed to be avoiding. What did she do? What could she do?

"Hello, Ron." Hermione blankly uttered.

"How are you, 'Mione?" He asked.

"Fine, you?" She replied.

Ron kneeled on the floor in front of her.

"I'm great.

"But I know you don't want to end the conversation here. I know what you've been thinking about. I know what it is that you want to do with me. I want to do it with you too, actually. There's no need to be afraid. Harry would never have to know." Ron said.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, don't hide it, 'Mione!" Ron said.

He stood up, and leaned into her, giving her the most passionate kiss she had ever received. But it meant nothing. He wasn't Harry.

"Get OFF of me, Ron!" Hermione screamed.

"What is it? Shy?" He asked.

"No, get the hell off me; I'm not in love with you!" She replied.

"Sure you're not…" He said.

"Bite me." She said, running out to the painting.

She flew down the 7 flights of stairs, and to the Great Hall, where most of the students were eating supper. Hermione hadn't bothered with meals lately. She hardly saw the point.

Through the huge doors she ran, and when she finally reached the Gryffindor table, she stopped. Harry, where was Harry? After a few seconds' search, she found him, near the front of the table.

"Harry! Harry, Ron, he tried to kiss me or something! He thinks I want to have sex with him!" She said hastily.

"What? I TOLD you to avoid that prick." Harry replied.

"He wouldn't leave me alone; I was in the common room!" She said, her voice rising.

"Is he still there?" Harry asked.

"How should I know? He's probably off screwing some one else!" She answered.

"You wait here, with Neville!" Harry said.

Neville looked up.

"Oh, hiya, Hermione! You've left the dorms… are you sick?" He asked.

"I may as well be." Hermione answered.

Author's Note: My longest chapter yet, I think! Snaps for me!


	10. Chapter 10: Everyone Needs a Name

Author's Note: LoL, yea Faint, I was watching that movie right before finishing the chapter! Hehe! And lotr, sorry! But I had to make him evil! And xxleicestershiredollyxx, okay, I have a lot to say to you, but I'm going to keep it mild. I don't much appreciate you accusing me of "shaggin" my teacher, when it's obviously you who's done that. I don't care if you hate my story, I won't lose any sleep over that. But accusing me of screwing around with my teacher because you hate it really makes you look like a moron. Oh, and I'm not one of those "fuckwits"… by the way, what the hell is that?... But I actually do have an A in English, thank you very much. LoL, well now that I have said that, on with the story (for those who do like it, and don't think I'm screwing with my teacher.) Oh, and I am SO sorry I haven't updated! School's been a killer!

Something was tearing at her. What was that feeling in her stomach? It felt like someone had grabbed it, twisted it into some kind of deformed knot, and it wouldn't come undone. No… she knew what was causing it. It was the fact that Harry was beating up one of her former best friends. When had life gone so downhill? When would it ever end? When friends weren't foes, grades weren't low, and life was not even a priority.

"Hermione?"

Snapping back to reality, she turned to her left. Neville. She had completely forgotten where she was.

"What?" She asked.

"I was asking you about that new plant in Herbology… didn't you hear me?" He asked.

"Oh, no, sorry." She said.

"You know, you're starting to show a little." Neville commented.

Hermione looked down. She had hardly noticed her stomach's increased size. She wondered what to name it, if she got that far. James was a good name. It was Harry's middle name. But what about a middle name? Newton, perhaps? She had always liked the name when she read it in "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them". What if it was a girl? Her mother's name was Leona, she could name it after her. Or perhaps Keilantra. She had read a book about names, and that one would work perfectly. It means magical, and princess of the night sky. Or Mirabelle. It was pretty, and meant wonderful, and good to look upon. She would have to see what Harry liked.

"Hermione!"

Neville. She had zoned off again.

"Yeah, what?" She asked.

"Hermione. Focus, will you? Harry's back!" He shouted.

"Joy." She thought.

Harry was back, and he looked almost as angry as he had when Ron had set his hair on fire by mistake in 6th year.

"I hope I scared that little fuckwit (haha, sorry Leicestershire, I stole your word!) off. Don't let him near you. Do you understand, Hermione? Do you?" Harry loudly asked her.

"What should we name it?" She asked.

"What?" He asked.

"The baby, stupid!" She said.

"Oh, um. I don't know. How long until, you know, it's born?" He asked.

"5 more months, Harry." She said.

"Then I suppose we have 5 more months to think about it." He said.

"Maybe." She replied.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He asked.

"Just maybe." She replied.

-

Okay, I'm really sorry this chapter sucked so badly! Once again, very sorry it took so long to update!


	11. Chapter 11: Artwork

Author's Note: Hey guys. Once again, thank you for your reviews. I'm having trouble getting my story to go together the way it is supposed to end up going together. So if anyone has any genius ideas let me know. I'll try to make my chapters longer, I promise. Oh, and thank you so much TBD for adding my story to your favourites. It's really encouraging when I know that someone loves my story! Anyways, on to chapter 11, and I hope this chapter doesn't suck as horribly as I know the last one did!

As she seemed to end up doing so many times this year, Hermione sat alone by the snow covered window. It was dark, as it often appeared to be. Hermione was being haunted by the fact that in just 5 short months, she would be a mother. Would she be able to handle the labels she would acquire? Would her mother be able to handle her? She was only 17, could she care for it properly? It was December, and May would come much sooner than it ever had before in her life. And what about Harry? He was hard-working, and talented. What if he never amounted to something, just because he was a young father? Would it have been her fault? What would people say about them? Or the baby? What if it went to Hogwarts when it turned that amazing age of 11, and it was shunned, because everyone knew? There were so many questions she had of her self, her baby, and her life. Her mind was full of what ifs, and would shes. All she wanted at that minute was to talk to someone she loved or trusted. But who did that leave, besides Harry. He was no good, he always told her to hold on, that everything would get better and we would have nothing to worry about. She wanted to talk to someone who would give their opinion exactly the way it had come to them, and wouldn't lie. She didn't feel like she trusted anyone. Not Ron, of course. Not her family. Maybe it would be best just to keep all of those deep thoughts to her self.

Hermione left her tunnel of feelings, and returned to the window she had been staring out, without really looking at anything. She noticed the lake immediately. It frozen over, and the way the light of the moon seemed to stare at the ice and water the way she stared out the window made her inhale a slight breath.

"So that's what they mean when they say something is breathtaking." She thought.

It was truly artwork, the kind you want to indulge yourself in until you are numb with awe, the kind you want a picture of, the kind you want a copy of. The kind you wish you could become one with. Maybe that dream was imaginary in most cases, but it was possible in this case, as she was quite aware.

It may have been art, but it was also the kind of artwork you couldn't afford to buy. Something that may have painted into your memory for ever, but you can't really have it. You can't really have everything you want. Everyone knew that.

-

Okay, I'm sorry, it wasn't very long, so I lied. But I like how it was written, if I do say so myself! Read and review please, and please tell me what you liked!


	12. Chapter 12: If He Finds Out

Author's Note: What's up guys? Because you guys all rock, you get 2 chapters in one day! And I'm bored. Please RR both chapters!

Days became weeks, endless weeks, and weeks became months, endless months. Two months had passed. It was the middle of February now.

-

"Ron!"

Hermione entered the common room, and saw Ron, sitting alone on the couch.

"Ron, I need you!" Hermione told him.

"I need someone to cry on."

"Well, where's your fucking boyfriend when you need him?" He grunted.

"He's off at Quidditch." She replied.

"I should have known." He replied.

"What do you want, one nice long fuck or something?" She asked.

"Well I wouldn't mind, but Harry might kick my ass again." He said.

"He doesn't have to know." She answered.

"What are you saying, Hermione?" He asked.

"I'm saying I want you, like you thought. I'm saying I'm bored, tired, angry, alone."

"And by that you mean?" He asked.

"Figure it out." She replied.

"Give me a hint." He answered.

Hermione knew that what she was about to do could be the worst decision of her life. Harry could find out, and she might have to support her child alone. But she was always alone. Harry wasn't around much, never there for her when she really needed him. This was her choice to make, her chance, her opportunity, and she wasn't about to miss it.

"Will this help?"

Hermione unbuttoned her white oxford shirt.

Ron had a fake look of confusion on his face. She loved that about him.

Hermione removed her black skirt.

"Oh, I think I understand." Ron said.

"Prove it." She replied.

"Gladly." He replied.

-

I know, short again, crappily written.

But this all has to happen for a reason.

RR


	13. Chapter 13: Backstabbing

Author's Note: Thanks so much for reviewing, guys! And thanks for adding my story to your list, Faint! Thanks for all your compliments, too! I'm glad you all liked 11 so much, lol! Thanks for the hug:D And to my best buddy Anna/Candy/FrootLoops, lol glad you like my story do much. lotr-and-potc, trust me, I liked 11 better too. 12 sucked really bad, but it had to be written. I'm not a very explicit sex scene author, because I'm really not a fan. I tried to make it a little more subtle. So if anyone reads this and says they wish it was more explicit, that's just too damn bad. I hate it when reviewers complain about that. Okay, yea I'm getting off subject. So yea, hopefully, lucky number 13 won't be as bad as 12. Please continue to review!

Nearly everyone has had, or does have a burning secret they want to tell, or don't want to tell, but need to tell. Everyone has done something wrong. Some people do a little bit more wrong. Some people have a few more secrets. Hermione was one of those people. What she thought would merely be bad, was in fact unbearable. The innocence she had to attempt to pull off when the truly innocent Harry was by her side was close to impossible. To pretend to be clean when she felt so dirty was hard.

It had been nearly a week since Hermione's incident with Ron. Maybe Harry would never find out. Maybe he would.

"Hermione, you're awful quiet. What's the matter?" He asked.

"Nothing, Harry. Just morning sickness is all. It's nothing." She would reply.

She often worried that one day he wouldn't buy it. He would question her more, and she would have to confess to what she did.

"Hermione, I'm going to the toilet, wait here for me, will you?" He said.

"Sure, Harry, go ahead." She answered.

Hermione waited. There was a blank, yet worrisome look in her eyes. She was shaking slightly. It was rather chilly, she could blame that. She was biting her cheek.

But when Harry stormed out of the lavatory with Ron next to him, Hermione bit her cheek a lot harder than she had before.

"Hermione, is he telling me the truth?" Harry calmly, yet harshly asked.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about." She replied, looking down at her feet.

"Oh, I think you do." Ron replied.

Hermione stood up. There was no one on the 2nd floor where they were talking.

"What the hell did you tell him, Ron?" She asked.

"Exactly what deserved to be told." He replied.

"He asked for it, Harry!" She shouted.

"Oh really, he asked you to go fuck around with him? Well actually… I don't doubt it. But that doesn't make it right for you to actually do it!" He returned.

"Who are you going to listen to, him or me?" She asked, quietly now.

"I just don't know, Hermione." He replied. "I just don't know."

-

I know, short again. RR!


	14. Chapter 14: Shades of Grey

Author's Note: Dang, such a quick review Faint Hate! Hehe! Okay well on to chapter 14. I really will try to do the best I can, length wise. The end should be about 5 or 6 chapters away, just so you know! Sniff I don't want it to end! Anyway, here it is! Number fourteen!

Everything seemed tear stained. The flavor was salty, but she was used to it. Any flavor disgusted her, the flavor of food; the flavor of blood; and the common, salty flavor of tears. The bitter vomit flavor was no different than her mouth always felt. The world was full of flavors, some bitter, some salty, some magnificently sweet. But the world was also full of stains. And her world was especially stained. Tear-stained, blood-stained, vomit-stained. There were some stains that could easily be removed, and some stains that would always remain. There were some flavors that could easily be washed away with a drink of water, and there were some that you could never seem to get out of your mouth. In a world full of permanent stains, and long-lasting flavors, where would there be room for anything else?

Hermione never left the dorms anymore. People had stopped bothering her with owls. Teachers hadn't bothered to give students her assignments. She never had visitors. What once was an inky shade of black, the black that doesn't come out of your life, the black that causes those misunderstood moods, that always cause such depression and anger, had become a white. The kind of white that is a little bit faded. No one cries over a white stain, because often, a white stain comes out. White has no flavor. It is merely there.

This is exactly how Hermione was. She never cried anymore. Never did anything but throw up. She was starving herself, and the child she was due to have in two months. She was starving herself of food. Starving herself of knowledge. Starving herself of forgiveness. She was starving herself of life. And she, who was once depressed, but alive; intelligent, but failing; beautiful, but losing it all, was now a simple nothing. Just a blob of blood, water, and atoms, lying alone on a tear stained red bed spread.

The moistness of March lingered in the air. Everything was moist, and yet, it was all so dry.

She stood up.

Maybe there was shade of grey.

She didn't want to be a value, she wanted to be a vibrant colour. An orange, or a red.

But that would probably never happen.

She wanted her baby to live, more than anything, even if she didn't.

This child was all she would have left in the world.

She would give birth to that baby if it was the last thing she ever did.

But if the child was going to live, Hermione would have to help.

She was going to have to quit starving herself.

She was going to have to stop drinking.

She was going to have to stop everything.

It was nearly supper time at Hogwarts. She hadn't been to a meal in what seemed like forever. She was going to surprise them all. She was going to eat an entire meal, with chicken and potatoes. She wasn't going to get rid of it as soon as it was finished. Her baby was going to live.

If her child didn't live, than neither would she.

-

RR please! And sorry for my excessive use of the words flavor and stain. LoL!


	15. Chapter 15: Breaking Down

Author's Note: Aww, shucks, thanks so much Faint! Geez, I haven't left the computer for like 3 hours. Oh well, that rocks for you guys! lol! Okay, here is number fifteen! I hope you like it as much as fourteen!

Though inside, she was numb and alone, one might not have guessed from her improving physical appearance. But as good as it seemed on the outside, the forgotten scars on her wrists, and the unknown Hell in her eyes would never disappear.

"Hermione."

Someone was speaking to her.

"Hermione."

They said it again.

She looked up.

"What do you want, Harry?" She said when she realized who it was.

"To talk to you. Are you finished with your supper? My God. You actually ate something. But really, are you done? Because I would like to talk to you in the common room." He said.

"I'm finished." She said.

"Good, then let's go." He replied.

Silently, Hermione stood up, and headed for the massive Great Hall doors. Without a single word, she and he climbed the seven flights of stairs to the Gryffindor common room.

Taking a seat in her favourite chair, she looked at Harry, expecting him to begin whatever conversation it was he wanted to have.

"I've been keep track, you know. You're due in what, a month and a half? What have you decided to name it?

"What does that matter to you?" She snapped.

"What does it matter to me? Everything. It happens to be my child too, whether you like it or not, and I would like to know what you plan to name it!" He said, his voice rising.

"James Newton if it's a boy, and Keilantra Jane if it's a girl, are you happy now?" She shouted.

"I suppose." He snapped.

"Well that would make, let me see… one of us, then, wouldn't it?" She retorted.

"You are the most unforgiving, inconsiderate bastard I know, Harry James Potter. When I fuck up, you aren't ever there to back me up, to stand by me, to listen. You only pay attention to _your_ understanding of something, and never hear my side of it. You never try to understand my pain, my suffering. Because I brought it upon myself, you leave it as my problem to handle. What do you expect me to do? Be your… toy? You think I am going to let you play with me when you want, but then put me on a shelf to collect dust when I run out of batteries? Is that it? Is going off to screw with someone I _thought _cared more than you so abnormal, that you leave me to fend for myself when I am wrapped up in more than I can take?" Hermione was sobbing now.

"I guess not." Harry replied uneasily.

"I just wanted to be with you. You were my remedy. I still want to be with you."

_(The following is a part of Avril Lavigne's song, Fall to Pieces)_

"_You're the only one,_

_I'd be with till the end_

_When I come undone_

_You bring me back again_

_Back under the stars_

_Back into your arms."_

"You were the only one that I would have died for, Harry! When I began to fall apart, you would put me back together!"

Hermione was on her knees, crying harder than Harry had ever seen her cry.

"Hermione."

"Please! Just hold me." She said, looking up.

Harry sat down next to Hermione and wrapped his arms around her.

"Don't cry. I'm here for you. I always will be, I promise." He said.

"Forever?" She asked.

"Forever." He answered.

-

Okay, yea, I know, a bit dramatic… gotta love it, lol. RR please!


	16. Chapter 16: Darker Ink

Author's Note: Sorry lotr-and-potc, another short chapter! lol I'll work on it. Glad you liked 14 and 15! Faint, wow I know me too (um, duh, why else would I have been listening to it when I wrote this… lol). Okay so here is your chapter 16! Oh, and to Anna who just reviewed me like now, thank you! And to Hermione (lol, we'll say Leah, she isn't anything like this), who reviewed right after Anna, thank you to you too!

It's very interesting, the way you can make connections between people and flavors, people and colours, people and all sorts of different things, things one could never imagine. Hermione is someone who can be connected to many things. If you think about it really, she can be connected to almost everything. For example, ink pens. Hermione could have been an ink pen. Hard on the outside, empty in the inside, except for that small stick of ink. The flow of the ink is the same as a human's flow. It can go very light, almost so light that you can't see it, and then it runs out. Nobody wants their ink pen to run out. They want it to stain the paper they may be writing poetry on, or doodling small, gothic looking cartoon creatures. Hermione is one of those pens that didn't write, and you tried and tried, and almost gave up, and then slowly, very slowly, it starts to work again. Lighter, darker. Lighter, darker. Never quite that brilliantly strong shade you want it to be, but good enough.

Hermione's moods were improving.

Slowly, like the ink in the pen.

But all the same.

Hermione felt clean. She didn't feel perfect, but she never would. But she wasn't hungry. She wasn't drunk. She wasn't high. She was still failing school horribly, but that wasn't much of a priority anymore. It's not like she would stay if they held her back. If her baby lived, she would have to take care of it.

She and Ron rarely ever talked anymore. If they did, it was usually against her will.

"Hermione, I'm going to bed, it's nearly 1 in the morning."

It was Harry.

"Oh, night Harry, I'll see you in the morning."

Harry climbed the stairs, and Hermione snuggled up with a warm blanket. She was lying there, with a good book, and read for almost an hour.

And that's when it happened.

-

I know, you all hate me, short again! Sorry!


	17. Chapter 17: What Happened

Author's Note: I was tempted to leave you all at a cliffhanger… maybe it was an obvious one anyway. Maybe not. But lucky for you, I'm nice, and I'm dying to add more. (so is Anna, lol!) So here it is, chapter 17. It's near the end, it really is! Oh and to Angie (awesome, a new reader!), thanks for loving the story, lol! And thanks for adding me to your authors and stories list! That makes me feel good!

"Hermione, look at me, what is wrong?" A very tired Harry said.

All she could do was point to her stomach.

"I don't understand." He replied, waking up slightly more.

"I need a hospital or something, now, really!" She said.

Harry was awake now.

"What do you mean? What for?" He asked.

"You're so stupid Harry! The baby! We need to get to a Muggle Hospital now. If you don't calm down, I'm apparating without you!" She shouted.

"But-"

"1, 2, 3"

And with that, Hermione was gone. Harry quickly apparated after her.

"Where are we?" He asked.

"London Local Hospital. Floor 3, Harry!" She replied.

Harry was fascinated by the operation of the elevator.

"This is SO cool!" He said aloud.

"Harry come on!"

They were walking fast.

They quickly told the front desk, and were in within a few minutes.

"Hermione, I don't understand. Don't you still have, what, a month and a half left before it's due?"

"Exactly, Harry."

-

Okay, so you don't all nag me, lol, chapters will be shorter… okay not much different, lol. Just for the reason that the longer the chapters, the quicker it ends. Sorry this chapter was bad, rushed, dramatic. Call it what you will, but I'm being realistic, people, so sorry!


	18. Chapter 18: Life and Death

Author's Note: Okay, I am so sorry guys that it has taken me this long, again, to resume writing. You wouldn't believe our homework load lately. It's been awful… anyway, firstly, sorry about the elevator error, I didn't even realize it! Thanks so much to my 5 new readers! That is so cool! Hey Ashley! Thanks so much for all your really thoughtful reviews. They mean a lot.

Life is treasure. Many live long lives, and yet many live very short lives. Death is a new beginning. The real story begins after the first chapter. Life is the first chapter. Death is what comes after it. But when you're in the middle of life and death, in the middle of that short first chapter that could end with the turn of a page, it sometimes leaves you hanging on the edge.

Hermione's little girl was in the middle.

Keilantra Jane Potter was in an incubator.

The muggle doctors said that she would live, most likely, and that Harry would have a little girl home with him soon.

Harry was sobbing.


	19. Chapter 19: The Ending for Some

Author's Note: This might be the last chapter. Maybe second last. We'll see how it goes.

(2 years later…)

"Keilantra, come here, baby."

The air was somewhat chilly, and the grass was damp from the endless amounts of rain that had fallen yesterday.

"Harry, are you sure you want to bring her?"

"Of course, Ron." He answered.

"I'm very sure."

"Harry, how are you going to explain this to her, when she gets a little older? Do you think she'll understand why her birthday and her mothers death-date fall on the same day?" Ron asked.

"She'll understand, Ron. She'll be the brightest witch of her age, like Hermione always was." Harry responded.

"Harry, I'm so sorry. For everything… I really am, I swear. Thanks for bringing me today. It means so much." Ron said.

"Ron, let's just go." He answered.

HERMIONE JANE GRANGER

SEPTEMBER 19th, 1982 – APRIL 13th, 1999

MAY YOU REST IN PEACE

"It's going to be okay, Harry. It is." Ron said.

THE END

But don't stop reading, because there will be an epilogue.


	20. Chapter 20: Epilogue

Author's Note: I'm glad you liked it, Gecko! Gah.. homework, I swear it's out to get me… anyway. To my readers, this is the end. Any chapters following this will just be like big long author's notes to all the people who will want to read it when I put the complete sign up. I really hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading, and thanks for being so great!

Even after 10 years, Harry still couldn't believe that she was gone. For some reason, he felt guilty. He knew he shouldn't say that, but it just kept running through his mind, "You got her pregnant, it's your fault she died during the birth."

Keilantra was 10 now, happy, and healthy. They called her Kiki.

Harry had explained why her mother was gone. Kiki was still young, and though she understood, Harry wasn't sure that she had fully accepted it.

Kiki had already begun to experience the magic that ran through her blood. Being as bright as she was, she had asked questions.

And Harry explained. He told her of Hogwarts, and what a magical place it was, where he and her mother had learned every trick they knew. He told her of the bad things that had happened, and the good things. He told her that not all wizards were good. He told her of the amazing teachers, and the Headmaster.

Kiki was excited, of course.

Ron and Harry had made up long ago.

Ron was married, to some witch named Penny Leavenfeller. She had been a 2nd year when they were in 7th year, and they had had something going then.

Harry was lonely. He felt bad for Kiki. She had no mother, and no close grandparents. Hermione's parents didn't keep in touch.

His aunt and uncle sent him and Kiki a small present for Christmas each year, usually a pair of socks for Harry and a book for Kiki.

Kiki was a pretty regular girl. She loved clothes, liked boys, and played outside a lot. She read books, even the ones Vernon and Petunia sent every year.

Harry knew that she was going to be every bit the genius that Hermione was.

He was sure of it.


End file.
